Remember that time that we were drunk on good wine and I had to push you up the stairs at Ramblin’ Rascals and you decided it would be cooler to Uber Black everywhere even though it cost you so much money. And you were ranting and raving about some old school hip hop artist and I just nodded along because you get this glint in your eye when you speak about something passionately and it would have been a crime to interrupt you, especially because I didn’t know hip hop that well back then. I realised that night that I trusted your judgement more than anything. And so now I want to say that I might feel melancholy whilst you’re living elsewhere but I know you’re going to make a big smiling mess of it and your time in the coastal sunshine will be a thing of absolute fucking beauty. I meant to tell you this yesterday but I just drank my wine and kept my thoughts to myself like always.

I’ll see you soon. 

— You Moved Away

I’m really good at putting my foot in it.
But I’m also really good at cleaning the mud off my shoes. 

— Life Puddles

I like the teasing melancholy of a song that comes on the Coles Radio on a Sunday afternoon. A sound so earnest that I often forget what I’m buying and walk the aisles aimlessly hoping distant memories are on sale this week.

— Coles on Sunday

I like my clouds brushed pink and I like brushing my teeth in the shower and I like seeing lone palm trees that break the horizon. These are things that stop and invalidate all my sureness in life in one fell swoop and I can’t help but think “so this is the way things are now.”

— Obligatory Idiosyncrasy

If I was a dentist I’d only do feelings.

- Career advice

The first time I met you I told you my name was Sal and that I played the electric violin and you didn’t know whether to believe me or not, but I then told you that it’s just like a normal violin except you plug it in. And I don’t know if the strings all broke at once or if they peeled off one at a time with every midnight fight, morning argument and car door slam that led up to the final goodbye. We realised some things aren’t meant to be, no matter how electric.

— S/A/L

My Grandfather has more spirit than anyone I know. Growing up he would insist on accompanying us every time we went into the city. I loved the way he would come to the door with his little brown backpack like he was prepped and ready for adventure. I always figured he came along because he didn’t want to miss out on what we were seeing, but looking back I really think it was because he wanted to spend more time with us. He could have seen the city a thousand times over and he’d still jump at the chance to experience it at least once more by our sides.
I still don’t know what he put in that backpack, but I like to think his spirit took up most of the room.

— Pop